


All I Ask of You

by PersephoneChthonia



Series: Cycle of Vengeance [6]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26018596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersephoneChthonia/pseuds/PersephoneChthonia
Summary: Who was Adam's mother?
Series: Cycle of Vengeance [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632856
Kudos: 2





	All I Ask of You

It should've been simple: seduce a virgin, bed her, and then wait nine months for her to give birth to the Antichrist.

But for Satan, things were _never_ simple.

"What do you _mean_ I need to tell her my identity?"

Stolas flinched, still bowing when she dared to glance upward for a brief second. "I simply assumed that would would be the case, lord. In the event the woman does not die in childbirth, of course. She will be wondering what had become of the boy, and—"

"Enough!" Turning to his council, he asked, "What do you all think?"

As usual, Beelzebub was the first to speak. "I believe it to be a good idea," they said, and not for the first time did Satan suspect they were simply countering him out of spite. "You could always turn her over to our side later on, and besides, what's one more soul?"

"Every ruler needs someone to rule beside them, lord," Asmodeus added.

Satan gripped the arm of his throne and once again silently cursed Lilith for leaving so abruptly. Though she hadn't been a virgin by the time of her departure, he still thought things would've been far easier if she had at least provided him with a child first. No one said the mother needed to be _completely_ human, and besides, since when was he one to follow the rules? Moreover, having an actual heir, one he didn't need to give up, didn't seem like a bad idea, either. Perhaps it would quench Beelzebub's ambition. Or increase it, but at least the focus wouldn't be on him anymore.

Still, if he wanted to win, he knew he was going to have to play the universe's game just this once. There couldn't be any risks.

Unsurprisingly, the other three council members nodded in agreement.

 _I hate all of you,_ he thought, glaring at the demons who were _supposed_ to be loyal to him. But perhaps they had a point—a queen would only be beneficial to Hell, such as finally being able to get rid of the council once and for all.

"We can cross the bridge when we get there," he said at last. "Now, Stolas, how much time do I have to find someone?"

The astronomy demon hesitated as she stared at him with those large, owl-like eyes that still somehow managed to make her look beautiful, and there was a mix of fear and confusion in her amber gaze. "P-pardon?"

Satan rolled his eyes, frustration beginning to build up. "Have you gone deaf?" he asked with a growl. He _hated_ repeating himself.

Stolas gulped. "My apologies, lord. But I was under the impression that you already had a partner in mind."

Beside him, Asmodeus was stifling a laugh.

"A-and as for the timing... Um..." She cleared her throat and shook her head to keep herself calm. "As for the timing, lord, you only have about a year to find someone before the Antichrist is set... to... be..."

By the time Stolas trailed off, Satan was fuming. Almost literally, as fire was just beginning to surround him. "WHAT!?"

Stolas' only reply was a whimper as she began to back away.

"EXPLAIN TO ME WHY I WAS NOT INFORMED OF THIS SOONER!" It wasn't just his oracle he was speaking to this time, but his council members as well, all of whom cowered in fear except for Beelzebub.

Because _of course_ they wouldn't.

"Are you really about to blame uzzz for thizzz just becauzzze _you_ can't keep a tight schedule?"

Satan glared at his second-in-command, grateful that his skin had already turned red in his anger. But arguing wasn't going to give him more time, was it? Forcing himself to calm down, he asked Stolas, "When specifically is the Antichrist supposed to be born?"

"August of next year, sir."

Which meant he had until November to get someone pregnant. _Bless it all, Stolas!_ It was already _September_. "In that case, I shall get started on finding a suitable partner at once. You are dismissed."

The owl-like demon bowed and scampered out of the room immediately after.

 _Oracles!_ Satan rubbed his temple. Two months. How was he ever going to find someone in such a short amount of time? More annoyingly, why did the requirements have to be so _specific_? "Asmodeus," he said, looking at the frightened lust demon. "You're coming with me. And Beelzebub, you'll—"

"—watch over Hell while you're gone?"

He frowned. "Yes. That." Beelzebub was a traitor, but at least they were still a mostly competent leader.

And with any luck, he wouldn't be gone long. After all, how hard could it possibly be to find a mother for the Antichrist?

* * *

"I fucking _dare_ you to say that again to my face, you complete and utter _bitch_!"

Asmodeus pulled at Satan's arm as she dragged him outside, away from all the frightened and bewildered patrons. "Well, that's _another_ pub we won't be able to go into ever again." She then muttered something under her breath that Satan guessed was an insult.

He growled. "It's not my fault if the humans keep on being so insensitive!" If he had to hear that _Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?_ line _one more time_ , he was going to murder everyone within fifty kilometers from here.

Impatience flickered in the demon's eyes. "You're never going to find anyone if you keep on losing your temper," she berated.

His mood only worsened. How dare she speak to him like he was but a mere child?

"Lord," she continued more softly, as though sensing his anger towards her. "When exactly was the last time you seduced someone?"

Satan laughed. _Someone_ was getting old. "186—"

"Miss Nilsson doesn't count, and we're in the 2000s."

He bristled at the mention of his former ward. Throwing his hands up in the air, he said, "Fine, so I'm rusty!" It wasn't that he _couldn't_ seduce anyone, but making deals with clueless and desperate mortals had always been far more entertaining to him.

 _"Y_ _un_ _chinchudo."_

"Watch it!"

This time, Asmodeus didn't seem intimidated by him. "In any case, perhaps we should work on your anger first. I know we don't have time, so we'll have to be quick."

"I'm a demon, Asmodeus," he reminded her. "I can pretend to hold it in until my son is born."

"But—"

"And the reason I brought you along is so you could detect who hasn't been deflowered yet, _not_ to criticize me! Understood?"

Asmodeus bowed her head. "Yes, lord. My apologies."

Satan simply acknowledged her words with a nod and they quickly traveled to the next pub in silence, dread filling within him by the time the two demons reached their destination. _This is going to be a very long night, isn't it?_ Hopefully third time really was the charm.

* * *

And on the seventh day, the Devil still had not found someone to give birth to his child.

"How are you so bad at this?"

" _Not now_ , Asmodeus!" Perhaps it'd been a bad idea to bring her along. And besides, what was one less council member? _Be practical, Lucifer,_ he told himself as he continued pacing. _You can't afford to lose anyone now._

And much as he hated to admit it, she had a point. How _was_ he so bad at this? Things couldn't have changed _that_ much in the last two hundred years, surely? Or maybe he wasn't the problem at all. "Go home, Asmodeus," he said when turned to her. "You've clearly failed me these past few days."

The demon gritted her teeth, but either fear or logic had apparently won over, as she didn't argue. "Of course, sir."

He didn't stay long enough to watch her leave. _Such a disappointment, that one._ Why Beelzebub recommended her, he'd probably never know. Of course, he no longer had a way to detect who still had their virtue intact, but oh well. And since he was on a tight schedule, it wasn't like he could afford to be picky anyway.

_Chaste and accepting..._

A Satanist nun, then, would perhaps be the easiest option, but his stomach churned the longer he lingered onto the idea. Even _he_ got tired of listening to his own praises every now and then.

 _Just keep in mind what this'll all lead to._ No more Earth, no more pathetic humans and, if all went well, no more Heaven. And if the mother of his child did indeed prove to be irritable after the initial birth, then there was no reason for why that couldn't be dealt with as well; he could always try again before the Apocalypse arrived. All that mattered now was siring the Antichrist.

He just hoped he could tolerate her until then.

* * *

Satan didn't like interacting with his followers much, and the Order of the Golden Dawn was no exception. For whatever reason, this particular congregation had decided long ago that it was a good idea to worship his past self as much as how he currently was, and as such, they were the most ornately dressed of his followers and always had at least six candles lit every night in his name.

It felt disturbing to see so many reminders of his former angelic life, but as they were the most devoted, he couldn't really complain, either.

"It pleases me greatly that you've chosen to visit our little abbey, lord."

"But of course. Anything for my followers."

If the abbess noticed the tension in his voice, she did well to hide it.

"Hail Satan," said a few curious nuns passing by, and a single glare stopped from the abbess stopped them from asking any potential questions. The two nuns then bowed their heads and they quickly continued in the opposite direction soon after.

"I see your nuns respect you greatly, Mary," Satan said, an all-too-familiar bitter feeling beginning to grow, but he forced himself to stamp it down. "Or is it fear?"

Mary shrugged. "Respect. Fear. It's all the same to me, so long as they listen." Then she smiled, laughter in her eyes. "But enough about them! If you're here, then does that mean it's almost time?"

Satan didn't need to ask her what she meant. "Such a clever one you are," he said warmly. "Your hunch is entirely correct, but the End won't come for a few more years from now. Right now, I must find myself a willing partner, and—"

She clapped like a child on Christmas Day. "Oh, and you've come here to find your special lady! On behalf of the Order, it is an honor."

He forced a grin when she kissed his hands. "The honor is all mine, my dear," he said through clenched teeth. "Now, do you have anyone in mind, Reverend Mother?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." There was a slightly distant look in Mary's eyes, and Satan guessed she was already going over all the different options. "Would you mind coming back tomorrow, lord? I think it'd be practical to get the girls ready first."

"Whatever you think is best, Reverend Mother." And whatever got him away from here faster.

"Excellent. Just meet us just outside the abbey at noon."

* * *

Perhaps he should've gone to St. Beryl instead.

"...and this here is Lucinda Price. And this is Lucinda Jones, and that one right there is—"

"Lucinda?"

Lucinda #15 beamed. "How did you know, lord?"

"Call it a lucky guess." Satan turned back to abbess and pulled her aside. "Don't you have anyone else?" he whispered.

Mary frowned. "What's wrong with them?"

He briefly glanced back at the young nuns. "Are they _all_ named Lucinda?"

The abbess still seemed confused. "Well, it's a fairly common name among our Order. Of course, we also have a few Dawns and Estelles and—"

"Mary!"

She flinched at his slightly raised voice. "I-I really don't see what the problem is, lord."

"Would _you_ want to be intimate with someone whose name closely resembles your old one?" The last thing he needed in a partner was to be reminded of his days as a light angel in any way.

Mary's lips pursed, finally seeming to get it. "I suppose you have a point, lord. But we can't afford to be picky now, can we?"

Satan growled, hating that she—a _human_ —was right. "Yes, that's true," he said begrudgingly. "At least tell me these girls realize what birthing the Antichrist will entail."

Mary nodded. "They're aware. They wouldn't have pledged their loyalty to you otherwise."

Satan wasn't quite so sure about that, so, returning to the nuns, he decided to put the abbess' words to the test. "Well, ladies, I'm sure you're all very lovely, but as you know, I can only pick one to be the mother of the _Antichrist_."

As expected, several bright smiles began to falter.

"This isn't a position to be taken lightly," he continued. "And I understand if any of you are still attached to any worldly possessions. So, to make this easier for both of us, whoever cannot handle this, please leave. On my honor, I promise I won't be angry with any of you."

Hearing his vow made a few of them feel relieved, and even more began to walk back inside the building, muttering apologies in the process. Soon enough, only six remained.

"Girls!" Mary angrily called after the departing nuns. "Remember your vows!"

Satan chuckled and put an arm around her as he watched them leave. "Don't be too hard on them, Mary," he said. "After all, it's not _their_ fault they were trained so poorly." He squeezed her shoulder as he said this.

Mary winced at the pain, and from the corner of his eye, Satan saw the remaining nuns still staying where they were. He couldn't decide whether this would be a sign of them being at least somewhat stalwart or if they were simply too afraid to move.

But at least his options had been narrowed down. "Now that that's over with, you six can—"

"Wait!"

_Okay, make that seven._

A young woman ran towards them, stopping just beside one of her sisters. Her clothes differed from the other nuns, lacking the gold and black colors that were often associated with the Order and instead wore a single white, dirtied robe. Satan guessed she was a novice, as the only indication of her being part of the Order was her gold pendent and white habit, which had a few brown hairs sticking out from it.

Her sisters seemed happy to see her as she caught her breath, even concerned, which was more than what could've been said for the abbess.

"I hope you have a good explanation for why you're such a mess!" Mary shouted.

The novice seemed undeterred by her anger. "You asked me to tend to the courtyard this morning, remember?" she replied. "But then when I heard our lord was coming to visit," she added while doing a little curtsey when she looked at him, eyes dull from whatever manuel labor she'd been doing. "Well, I simply had to attend. Only to observe, of course!"

Her explanation only seemed to annoy the abbess further. "Even so, I see no reason why you couldn't have made yourself look presentable first."

Satan finally decided to intercede. "Now, now, Mary. We shouldn't discourage enthusiasm." Stepping in front of the novice, he smiled and asked, "What is your name and age, child?"

She nervously returned the gesture. "Christine Johnson, sir. Just turned twenty-six this past month."

"Christine?" Satan repeated, not even trying to hide his surprise. Just his luck that he would encounter someone with the same name as _her_.

Beside him, Mary scoffed. "Yes, we know how embarrassing it must be to have someone who bears the name of the enemy."

"Says the one named after the Virgin," muttered the novice, and her sisters giggled until the abbess crossed her arms and glared at them. They all immediately cleared their throats then and stood silent a moment later.

"Anyway," Mary said, turning back to Satan, "please take your pick, lord. We needn't waste any more time than we already have."

He knew the Reverend Mother was right, yet he couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance anyway. _If I could smite this woman, I would!_ The eagerness on the nuns' faces returned as his gaze swept between them, each one hoping to become the mother of the Antichrist. There would be no questioning if he chose one of them, only blind obedience.

Something that would get boring very quickly. _I already have more than enough sheep,_ he thought. What he needed was an _equal_ , someone who would generally support him and vice versa, but also wouldn't be afraid to challenge him or his demons so long as it was absolutely necessary.

What he needed was a new Lilith.

His gaze landed on Christine again, admiring how the novice had briefly spoken against the abbess in her own way. And if she already wasn't afraid of authority, then perhaps... _Hopefully she's also not a singer._ "Christine?"

Her eyes widened when her name was called. "Yes, lord?"

"How would you like to have dinner with me?"

* * *

"Enjoying your food, my dear?"

"Hm, yes, lord."

He didn't point out that she barely touched anything and had instead been glancing anxiously around the manor all night, as though she were waiting for a demon to pop out at any moment.

Asmodeus came into the dining room with a bottle of wine. Noticing Christine's full plate, she frowned and whispered to Satan, "Do _something_!"

"Any suggestions?" he asked, just as annoyed.

The lust demon didn't answer, and simply poured the drinks before taking her leave.

Something. Fine. But what? He drummed his fingers on the table, the closest thing to music there was, as Christine finally began to eat her food. Her face shone in the candlelight, and in her white dress and gloves, face powder, and hair stringed with pearls, she already looked every bit a bride.

"You look pretty tonight," Satan said at last, and he was surprised how awkward the words sounded when he said them. It wasn't possible for him to be _nervous_ , was it?

Christine blushed, and a smile tugged at her lips. "Thank you, lord. Sister Lucinda helped me get ready."

"Which one?"

She covered her mouth, but was unsuccessful in stifling her laughter, and Satan joined in. "Oh, I'm sorry if I'm making this awkward," she said once her joy died down.

"No need to apologize," he said gently. _Although, it would certainly help us both if you'd just relax._ "I understand how terrifying this must be for you."

She nodded, clearly ashamed. "If I may ask, lord, why me?"

"Why not?"

"I'm only a novice. And not even a good one as far as the abbess is concerned."

"And why should that matter to me?" He laughed again. "I am only looking for someone to birth my son, Miss Johnson. I care not for who or what you are, so long as you're flowered and fertile."

"Oh." She almost looked offended by his reply. "Of course, lord."

 _"Idioto!"_ Asmodeus said under the guise of a cough somewhere nearby, though Christine either took no notice of it or didn't care.

 _I got the message, Asmodeus!_ His council was clearly getting much too comfortable with him. Perhaps tending to the hellhounds would teach the demon a lesson. "Er, anyway," he continued, "there's no need to be so formal with me, darling. If it makes you more comfortable, Lucifer is fine." Usually he allowed no one to call him such, but anything to make things easier for both of them.

Christine nodded gratefully, now seeming much more relaxed than before. "Thank you, s—Lucifer." The sound of his name on her lips felt strangely... right.

 _Looks like I made the right choice, then._ "So, tell me about yourself, Christine. Anything at all."

Christine had a pondering look on her face that lasted for several seconds. "Hmm. Well, I was born in Tadfield, grew up with strict parents, and I've been with the Order for a few years now."

He waited for to continue until he realized she was finished. "That's it?"

"Am I boring you?" she teased.

 _At least she's not scared of me anymore._ Hopefully it stayed that way. Smiling, he said, "Not at all, sweet. I simply expected you to go into more detail." Her pendent catching his eye, he asked, "For one thing, just how _did_ you become one of my followers?"

Christine looked a little embarrassed now. "Uh... well..."

"Let me guess, teenage rebellion?" That was how many of his other worshippers got started.

She nodded. "I originally wanted to become an actress, but my parents forbade it. My father didn't think I could make it in the industry and my mother—ever the fanatic—believed that all artists worked for Hell, which only increased after the Panic."

 _Well, she's not_ completely _wrong._ He'd lost count of just how many people had sold their souls for the sake of fame.

"Anyway," Christine continued, "one of my old schoolmates introduced me to your religion while we were in secondary school. After his own sister officially joined the Golden Dawn, we ended up attending a few services and I eventually decided to do the same after graduating from university."

"How did your parents feel about your choice?"

Christine hesitated.

"You never told them, did you?"

"I... did," she said at last, smiling sheepishly. "I just never told them what _kind_ of nun I'd be. Or that I'd still be in England."

"Well, where do they think you are?"

"America." Christine suddenly had a guilty look on her face. "I haven't even had any contact with them in years."

Satan smirked and took a sip of wine. "You say that like it's a bad thing. If there's anything I know about parents, Christine, is that you're better off without them. Always in the way, never realizing your true potential, wishing to replace you with significantly inferior beings—"

"What?"

"My point is," he said, almost shattering the glass, "I think you did the right thing. But if it brings you any comfort, may your mother and father soon become my new followers."

She grinned nervously and clinked her glass with his. "Thank you, Lucifer. Now, um, I know the abbey has already taught us so much about you already, but may I ask you a few things anyway?"

He nodded. "But of course, my dear. Just so long as it's not anything—"

"Why did you really rebel?"

"—personal." Satan sighed. "Why would you want to know about that?"

Her eyes were bright. "It's just... the texts are always so vague and I always wanted to know the details behind your motivations and the war and—" He must've been somehow scaring her again, because she stopped herself and then slumped in her seat. "Never mind."

"I encourage curiosity, Christine, just not in this instance." Fingers brushing, he added, "You understand, don't you? How _painful_ it would be to speak about? I wouldn't want to upset you." _Or me._

Christine slowly nodded. "Y-yes, of course. I'm sorry."

"That's quite alright, dear. Perhaps I'll tell you someday, but not today." Or ever. _I'll tell you about that day when pigs fly._ "Now, any interests? Besides rebelling against your parents, I mean."

Christine sat a little straighter after laughing again. "Well, I happen to enjoy the theatre."

Satan tried not to frown. "Do you now?"

She nodded eagerly. "Musicals, mostly, though I also enjoy a good Shakespeare every now and then."

"You wouldn't happen to be a fan of Webber, would you?"

Christine raised an eyebrow. "He's... fine, I suppose. Why?"

"No reason." Just as he was thinking of what he ask next, he noticed her empty plate. "Oh look, you're done!" With a snap of his finger, the table was completely clean, causing Christine's eyes to widen in amazement. Why God wanted Her angels to tend to the mortals when it was clear who the superior ones were, he'd never know.

"Thank you for this lovely evening," Christine said when she stood.

 _Lovely_ was perhaps an overstatement, but it certainly could've been worse. "Anything for the mother of my future child," Satan replied before kissing her hand. "Although, you're allowed to stay here if you'd like."

"Truly?"

"As I've said, anything for you. Unless you want to go back to the abbey and pull out weeds all day, then that's fine too."

For a moment, she almost seemed reluctant to accept his offer, but then she beamed. "It would be an honor to live in your lovely home, Lucifer."


End file.
